


arrangement

by bleakmidwinter



Category: Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, First Time, Herbert is a bitch but also cute, M/M, Oral Sex, Timespan of Bride of Re-Animator, Zombie Making, malpractice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 10:17:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21444607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleakmidwinter/pseuds/bleakmidwinter
Summary: Herbert and Dan live together. They work together. But do they like each other?
Relationships: Daniel Cain/Herbert West
Comments: 16
Kudos: 198





	arrangement

The reason Dan doesn’t leave is beyond him. Day by day, Herbert grips the reigns tighter, leading them into war. A war of what, Dan has no idea. Not like Peru; headed more towards the mouth of insanity. 

Perhaps it’s this silly fantasy he has, that Herbert can be fixed.

Brought back down to Earth as if he hadn’t been born with his feet planted on Mars.

If you can’t beat them, join them, Dan’s father used to say. The phraseology is particularly dangerous when used in the context of Herbert West, who manages to butter Dan up like a trussed pig and get his way no matter the situation.

“Dan, a scalpel,” Herbert orders, and Dan hands him one, his friend ignoring his invasive lingering hand. Yeah; he’s a farm animal on a spitroast, waiting for the last remaining bit of raw flesh to char, and blacken. 

No matter how close he gets to the guts and intestines of a dead thing, he feels like he’s far away, like he’s looking in on some intimate secret Herbert is harboring. 

And why is he allowing Dan to see it? Of all people.

Dan, the mere university student.

Dan, the man who can’t hold down a relationship.

Dan who is normal.

Dan who would take pleasure in a break at a fast food restaurant right about now, rather than watching Herbert drop green specs of serum on the discolored ligaments and tendons that might eventually make up a leg. 

“Are we done?” Dan asks steadily. 

“Don’t rush things, Dan,” Herbert responds, not bothering with any sort of glance. He’s in his own world, squinting at the mangled flesh on the table.

The clock in the corner ticks away. 

Dan turns away, starts to tear off his gloves in the attitude one may classify as passive aggressive. He supposes he is. He takes it out on Herbert when it’s he himself who decides to stay here. Seeing the body parts like this riles him up; it reminds him that even if he were to walk out their front door, he’d be leaving behind part of himself.

If someone asked Dan when he’d first met Herbert if he knew he’d be living alone with him now, giving into his abominable experiments and grisly lifestyle, he’d laugh them off.

Dan dares to gaze back over his shoulder. Herbert is removing his gloves and apron, like a stay-at-home mom disappointed that the cookies in the oven burned.

He wonders sometimes if he stays because of Meg’s heart, or because no other human being in the world would ever want Dan as much as Herbert wants him.

Dan has never been asked after as much, begged to so many times, and followed around like a king. And what for? Compliance? 

Herbert is shutting the lights off in the basement, stretching up on his toes to get the last switch. Dan smiles, trying to shake off the weird feeling coiling in his gut.

It’s his favorite part of the day. 

Dan follows him out the door of the lab, locks it, and follows Herbert up the stairs. 

“What do you want for dinner?” Dan asks, as if they’re normal housemates who hadn’t just sewn together body parts for hours prior. 

Herbert’s eyes are glazed over, as usual. His mind is still in the lab. He can manage words, though. He always does.

“Macaroni.” 

“White cheddar or regular?” 

“What’s the difference, Dan?” Herbert says curtly. He sits on the couch in the living room, removing his shoes and rubbing at his ankles he never knows are sore until he’s stopped working. Eventually he adds with hesitance, “White cheddar.” 

“You’ve got it,” Dan responds. He escapes to the kitchen. 

While the water is boiling, he compares himself the image of a classic housewife. He cooks for Herbert after a long day of work, and cleans up his messes. Physically, Herbert is an abnormally clean person, but Dan has gotten him out of quite a few jams. 

When the macaroni is done, Dan carries out two bowls for them. Herbert’s nose is in some medical book he keeps under the coffee table. 

After setting down the bowls, Dan snatches it with two fingers and throws it back underneath the table. “What have we agreed on?”

“Well, I’m not going to just sit here and stare at the wall waiting for you, am I?” Herbert bites back, but he does sound slightly guilty. The yearning glint in his eyes is gone, though, which means he can survive not stepping foot in the lab again tonight. 

“You could have picked out a movie,” Dan replies gently. He takes a bite of the macaroni and hums. “This is great.”

“It’s box pasta,” Herbert grumbles. “And your judgment in film is superior to mine.” 

“A complement at long last?” Dan questions, standing up to rifle through the cardboard box of VHS’ they’ve accumulated over the year. Dan always suggests they stop by yard sales whenever they’re on the road. Somehow, Herbert never complains. 

“How about something called _ Madhouse _? It’s from 1981” Dan suggests.

“Fine.”

Dan puts the VHS in the player and returns to the couch. They eat their macaroni and Herbert makes a small humming sound that he’d never admit is approval, but signals to Dan that he’d done something right. 

Maybe it was the pinch of parmesan. 

Halfway through the film, Herbert says. “I take it back. Your judgement in film has much to be desired.”

Dan actually laughs out loud, hitting Herbert on the shoulder with his elbow. A smile is tugging at the corner of Herbert’s lips. 

Dan needs these few hours of refuse. Of them silently enjoying each other’s company. 

Dan doesn’t have to despise him during these moments. It should scare him, that he genuinely cares for Herbert beneath all the inescapable resentment. It’s easiest to like him when he’s not what Dan knows he is.

By the end of the movie, Herbert’s head has rolled back onto the couch, his limbs loose and exhausted. Dan watches him while the credits roll; it’s something he does often. No particular reason why, Herbert’s just always asleep by the end of a film, and the opportunity is always open. He brushes away a strand of hair that’s fallen into Herbert’s eyes.

Normally, he wakes him up and they retire to their separate bedrooms. But, there’s something different about today. He doesn’t want to disturb his slumber, not when his body seems to be begging for the rest. 

Dan’s fingers twitch forward on the couch cushion, thinking too deeply about carrying him upstairs bridal style.

He could. Herbert’s small.

Dan loops an arm under Herbert’s legs, and supports his back with his other. Of course he’s this light, he barely eats.

He hauls the sleeping scientist upstairs and lays him down on his bed. His bed looks as if it’s never been used. As if the twenty minute naps he gets during their movie nights are the only times he ever sleeps. 

Herbert makes a small noise when Dan’s hands slip away, almost a sort of moan. It suddenly feels lewd and wrong staring down at him like this. Vulnerable and twitching in his sleep, where moonlight casts over his face in a soft feminine glow.

Dan’s feet can’t move. He’s transfixed.

Something stirs in his gut. Shaking his head, he retreats to his room. 

It’s hard to sleep thinking about what transpired. It’s his own fault. He should have woken him up and left Herbert to his own devices. 

He sleeps for an hour, the six am sunrise gifting him no welcome.

* * *

It’s not too far-fetched that he finds Herbert attractive.

He remembers learning about it in college psychology. The mere exposure effect. It was bound to happen at some point. If not in Peru, here in this house that they own together.

It pisses him off as much as it arouses him.

Dan hasn’t been with another guy since high school. It was a locker room handie too, nothing phenomenal. He doesn’t deny he’s found men attractive and ultimately fuckable. There was a soldier in Peru he’d considered, but Herbert’s always been off limits in his mind. Something hadn’t allowed him to go there until a few days ago when something akin to a switch flipped inside his brain. 

Maybe it’s always been there, but deep under layers of forced disgust. If he admitted he wanted Herbert, he’d have to admit he approves of what they’re doing here in the lab.

The shell had to crack at some point. 

The tip of Herbert’s syringe all of a sudden snaps off, breaking. 

“Crud,” he grumbles. He strolls over to the medical cabinets to retrieve a new one, and Dan wants to laugh. Who says _ crud? _

Watching Herbert lick his lips in concentration, and press the new syringe of glowing green life-juice into a severed calf muttering scientific incantations to himself, it’s hard to imagine he actually has a functioning dick in his pants.

“What are you goggling at?” Herbert snarls out of the blue. “You’ve been distracted all night. I’ve practically been doing everything myself.”

“Sorry,” Dan replies. “Hey, do you wanna skip on the movie tonight?”

Herbert pushes his glasses up with two fingers, pursing his lips in that _ way _ that he does. “Dan, I’ve agreed not to talk about work after we finish for the night, and you agreed not to talk about what we do after work, while we’re _ working _.”

“Wow, that’s a mouthful,” Dan says, mildly amused.

“We’re trying to accomplish important things here, Dan.” Herbert sniffs. “Was last week’s film so terrible you’re having second thoughts about our arrangement?”

“You don’t have to call it an _ arrangement _ .” Dan uses all his willpower not to roll his eyes or cover his face with his hands. “And, we don’t have to watch a film _ everyday _. There’s other things we can do.” 

Waspishly, Herbert glances at the clock. There’s still twenty minutes left until their work in the lab is done for the day.

“I’ll be content to continue this illuminating conversation after we’ve finished.” He takes the severed foot of the leg on the table and hands it to Dan. “Can you administer the serum for this part?”

Dan sighs. “Yeah, Herb.”

Later that night, the second Herbert is divested of his apron, Dan brings them right back to where they left off.

“We should get drunk.”

“Excuse me?” Herbert asks, and seems a tad flustered. He stops at the bottom of the stairs. “You—_ we _ have to work at the hospital tomorrow.” 

“We don’t have to get _ hammered _,” Dan reasons. “We’ve got perfectly good, full, bottles of rum and vodka that have been stashed in the cabinets here since God knows when. You don’t wanna watch Rudolph right? We’re running out of VHS’.”

“I’ve never given in to the temptation of inebriation and I don’t believe I’ll start now.” Herbert toddles up the stairs like a skittish mouse. Dan follows, hot on his heels.

“You’ve never gotten drunk?”

“What’s the appeal, Dan?”

“To feel good?” Dan says with a laugh. When Herbert offers a glare of pure indignation, Dan grabs his arm. “I just want to loosen up a bit, and I don’t wanna get drunk alone. The work... it’s been, well, getting to me, a bit,” Dan lies. “I don’t know what it is. I don’t want to stop, I just need something to take the edge off.”

“So, you want me to drink away your sorrows with you? I’m afraid I can’t relate to your sudden and unexpected abhorrence to our work.”

“You know it’s not _ abhorrence _, for fuck suck Herbert, can’t you just agree to a few drinks like a normal person?” Dan thinks about what he said. “Sorry, that sounded...I just don’t want you to go storming off to your room and for me to be left down here like some lonely idiot. I, uh, like spending time with you. You’re my friend, you know?”

Herbert’s face seem a little flushed in the dim light of their living room. He sucks his cheeks in and narrows his eyes to give the appearance of consideration. 

“Two shots of vodka is my limit.” 

Dan grins, and elbows him in on the shoulder. 

An hour in, Dan understands why Herbert had been so opposed to drinking. He’s never seen a worse lightweight in his life. Herbert’s a _ giggler _.

He sort of curls in on himself, like a tortoise going back into its shell, but a laughing, hysterical tortoise. He continues to sink into the couch and it’s not impossible to imagine him disappearing into the spaces between the cushions, with his lanky, thin frame. 

Dan is drunk too, having had two more shots than Herbert. Probably too much, if he’s being honest. Herbert was right, they do have work tomorrow.

Herbert is still laughing, but it’s more of a wheeze now. He can’t even remember what Herbert found so funny. It’s something Dan said, no doubt, but his brain feels warm, and refuses to work properly. 

“Herbert, we _ are _friends right?”

“I would hope so, Dan,” Herbert hiccups silently. “Oops.”

“It’s just sometimes, well, can I tell you something?”

Herbert nods.

Dan slurs his words “Sometimes I think you don’t think we’re friends.” 

“Oh,” Herbert responds, almost looking guilty. It would be a first.

“You’re my best friend.” Dan surprises himself with this statement. The fact is, Herbert is his only friend. By this point, he doesn’t have much contact with anyone else. Maybe a few acquaintances at work, but at the end of the day, it all comes back to Herbert. 

He lives with him, he’s friends with him, and unfortunately, he wants to sleep with him.

“You’re my best friend,” Herbert states back. As if it's a simple fact for him, as if he’s known for years. Does he regard Dan this highly? Herbert continues with meticulated disposition. “I’ve never thought otherwise.” 

Dan watches Herbert on the couch, face pink from the alcohol, and his glasses sliding down his nose and wonders if he’ll ever feel as brave as he feels right now. 

That last thought causes him to make one of the biggest verbal mistakes in his life.

“Herbert, the truth is, I think you’re hot.”

Herbert stares, bug-eyed. There is a silence that would most likely be awkward if they weren’t both drunk, but it goes on and _ on _, until Dan feels he has to clarify.

“You’re, um, fuckable. You know? I think that’s what I mean to say.”

Herbert’s lips part, as if to respond, and he suddenly looks exhausted, like he’s ready to pass out on their couch. “Fuckable,” he repeats back.

Hearing the word come out of Herbert’s mouth is surreal, and Dan has to sit up and take a deep breath to calm himself. 

There is no expression on Herbert’s face he can read. 

Dan can pretend he’s not this sexless, desireless, mad scientist obsessed with his work and unable to comprehend any human emotion beyond academic passion, but in the end it’s not the truth.

“I’m drunk,” Dan admits, voice cracking at the edges. They both know this, but he stands, and feels his feet gravitating towards the stairway that leads up to his bedroom. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Herbert is looking down at the coffee table in front of him, speechless. Dan’s not even sure if he’s listening. Maybe he won’t be able to process what Dan said and they’ll both forget about it. 

Yeah. Hopefully. Things would be a lot easier. 

Dan makes his way up the stairs without another word spoken between them.

* * *

Hangovers at work are the Devil’s gift to mankind.

Dan spends most of his shift rubbing his temples, counting down the minutes and seconds until he gets to go back home.

He remembers vaguely what he’d said last night. Something about Herbert being hot, which is probably why there’s been odd air between them today.

Dan needs to learn to shut it. He’d barely gone a week after realizing he was attracted to Herbert before running his mouth. Apparently, he doesn’t handle his drinks as well as he thought he did. 

And, If he didn’t know better, he’d say Herbert is avoiding him.

But, Herbert isn’t like that. He’s almost positive Herbert has completely disregarded any comment that arose the night prior, marking it off as intoxicated falsities. If not, he’s not going to let Dan’s weaknesses get in the way of his work.

However, he has seen almost none of him today. 

Usually, he pops in on Dan to update him on their little project, or just to check in and see if he needs help. He hasn’t seen Herbert once, save for their encounter in the hall, an awkward smile exchanged between them. 

Herbert had seemed in a rush.

Perhaps he finally found a severed head he’d be satisfied to use.

The car ride to the hospital had been agonizing, too. Car horns had broken through the protective veil of Advil, causing an even worse splitting headache for Dan, and Herbert had stared out the window silently.

He usually has a hundred things to say.

Dan regrets pressuring him to drink.

While he’s stitching up a patient later, he thinks about all the heinous acts Herbert has pressured him into and thinks maybe the blame isn’t entirely on him. 

Dan’s shift seems to go on for a decade. He’s jittery with relief when it’s over, waiting out in the parking lot for Herbert like a feverish dog. 

Herbert is striding over soon enough, still in his lab coat, avoiding eye contact. 

“We still working in the lab tonight?”

Luckily, this seems to wring out a normal reaction from him. His head snaps up, and his eyes are narrowed. “You’re not trying to get out of it are you?” 

“Of course not.” Dan tries to hold back a smile. “We might need to stop at a convenience store on the way home so I can grab more Advil, though.”

They do, and Dan takes one more than he probably should. 

Shifts at the hospital drone on and on, seemingly endless. 

Working in the lab with Herbert is cyclonic. Everything passes by so fast, Dan’s not sure how he ever keeps track of time. Yet, every moment beside Herbert seems to be in slow motion; watching him work at what he does best, seeing his excitement when an experiment works in his favor, it’s all intoxicating.

Maybe more than alcohol.

Herbert is nose-deep in his work, more than usual, today. Dan decides to look over his shoulder. All he wants to see is what he’s writing. He is a part of the project, after all.

Surprisingly, Herbert nearly jumps out of his skin when he notices Dan lurking behind him. He’s never seen Herbert startle. 

“Did I sneak up on you?” 

“I don’t know how. You were only three feet away.” Herbert shakily pushes up his glasses, and taps the led of the pencil against his notebook in thought. 

“Maybe you’re on edge.”

“Why would I be on edge, Dan?” Herbert challenges. Dan’s noticed that Herbert gets defensive whenever he’s feeling even the slightest bit vulnerable. 

“Something bothering you?” Dan questions, not looking away for a second. Herbert doesn’t seem to appreciate the scrutiny because he squeezes by him to fondle around with some beakers on another table. “We can talk it out.”

“The _ arrangement _.” 

“Screw the arrangement,” Dan yells, and Herbert flinches. “Sorry. I just don’t like seeing you like this. You shouldn’t feel uncomfortable because of me.” 

“Oh, get over it.” Herbert moves back to the severed parts on the autopsy table. “Not everything is about you.” 

Dan might buy it if Herbert wasn’t still avoiding eye contact.

“Fine! You want to ignore your issues? This is why you can’t get along with anyone. You have all these stupid pent up emotions that just form into a distasteful sardonic attitude. I’ll work on this goddamn cadaver, okay? I won’t say a word about reality. I’ll focus just on the dead body here in front of me, sorry, the dead _ parts _. It’s what you want right?” 

Dan whips on some gloves, not waiting for a response, snapping them hard against his wrists. He hovers over the body, and begins to sew the left foot to the left leg. 

“Dan,” Herbert mutters unsteadily. 

Dan swallows, and tries to quicken his pace. His hands are shaking. 

“_Dan_,” Herbert repeats. This time, he reaches out and takes his hand, stopping him altogether. His hand is draped over Dan’s, and he begins to move the needle with him. Together. “You’ll make a mistake if you go too fast,” he says softly. 

For Dan, it feels hard to swallow. The basement is suddenly suffocating. He wonders if it’s always been sweltering in the way that it is now. 

Herbert’s fingers slip into the crevices between Dan’s, fleeting and meant for instruction. The action quickly turns into something else. Herbert draws away then, like he’s been burned, and Dan dares to look up. Herbert’s face is flushed, and he’s biting the inside of his cheek.

_ Holy shit _. 

He’s hot for it. 

Either for Dan or the act of sewing up cadavers, but either way, the reaction is almost a miracle. He’s never seen Herbert _ wanton _over anything. Passionate, sure. About work, about bodies, serum, and experimentation. 

Is it the temperature of the basement? Is it Dan’s cologne? 

Ok. He can make the most of this.

Dan moves around the table and puts a steady hand on Herbert's shoulder. Herbert isn't looking at him but he doesn't push Dan away. 

“You want to stop for the night?” Dan asks softly.

The customary answer would be an immediate “NO.” But, Herbert doesn’t say that; he stares at the cadaver with wide eyes, absent of his usual volition.

“Hey,” Dan says lightly. “There’s no shame in it. You can tack an extra hour on our session tomorrow, how’s that? If you’re tired—”

“_I’m not, _” Herbert barks out, losing the instinctive bitterness in an instant. “I’m not tired,” he finishes with a low voice. 

Dan laughs and moves away from Herbert, already packing up his things from his desk. “Come on.”

“Dan…”

“Well, you’re going to follow me whether you like it or not.” Dan turns to Herbert who looks so small all of a sudden. Pouts at him like a sad frog. “You know you are.” 

Dan winks and Herbert tries to appear vexed, but he’s already inching out of his lab coat, ready to hang it up for the night. 

Dan splays himself out on the couch when they’re upstairs, not allowing any room for Herbert to sit. Herbert stares at him, and Dan thinks he’s working harder at this puzzle than he has on any equation. 

“Are we watching a movie?” Herbert asks, like it took effort for him to form the words. He doesn’t want to; Dan knows he doesn’t. 

“No,” He says simply. 

“Are we eating?”

“Are you hungry?”

“I—” Herbert’s words are caught in his throat. Dan almost wants to take pity on him. He’s not making this easy. He enjoys watching Herbert struggle to understand and form words. Payback for once. “A little,” he finally admits.

“For what?” Dan leans his head back on the arm of the couch, exposing his neck a little bit. Herbert stares at it; bug-eyed and fidgeting with his thumbs. 

There is a long silence.

A really long silence.

Dan’s neck is starting to hurt.

Herbert opens his mouth.

“For…food?”

“Oh, for fuck sake, Herbert,” Dan grumbles, burying a hand in his hair. He’s laughing; he can’t help it. The offense in Herbert’s posture is gut-busting. 

“_What_, Dan? You’re speaking in riddles! I’m a scientist, I’m not built for assumptions and innuendos, and your stupidly crafted attempt at—”

Dan stands. “Okay, okay, don’t get so worked up.” 

He stands right in front of Herbert. He’ll give the guy credit; he looks right back up at him, no hold barred, with eyes as fierce as when he’s fighting against a room full of zombies.

“You want a more practical approach at my offer?”

Herbert doesn’t break eye contact, but he blinks, and looks a little less head-strong.

Dan wants to tell him they’re not about to fight. 

When Herbert finally nods, Dan gathers his courage. He’s still human after all; there’s a chance this could all go sour and living with Herbert might become the ninth circle of Hell. 

Dan leans forward until their foreheads are touching. Herbert’s eyes widen slightly, they’re glossy and wet, and suddenly he squeezes them shut. Instead of kissing him, Dan sighs and pulls back. Tries to be the better man. 

“Herbert, I don’t wanna force you into anything. If you don’t want—”

Herbert’s eyes snap open, and he looks... pissed. He grabs Dan by his shirt collar and drags him in. Their lips smash together, hard enough to bruise. Dan grunts in pain and pulls back. “_Ow_.” 

“Sorry,” Herbert seems genuinely apologetic. “I think I’ve fallen victim to the trope of ‘it looked better in the movies’.”

Dan laughs and pulls him in, lighter. His lips still sting a bit, but it’s not bad. It’s adds a warmth that makes the knots in his stomach go tighter. 

Herbert’s eyes are squeezed shut again; maybe he saw that in a movie too. 

It’s been a long time since Dan’s kissed anyone; an even longer time since he kissed anyone that needed a flat-out _ lesson _.

He’s kissed virgins who have been faster learners than some experienced women. 

But, Herbert is going to be another story. He knows this. He signed up for it.

Herbert is showing none of his fervor from moments ago, allowing Dan to lead for once. Perhaps because he's basically a fish out of water at the moment.

His lips are soft, not surprising. Dan has caught himself staring at them on occasion, wondering how they get so pink. 

Dan slides a hand from Herbert's neck down his back, pulling him in just a fraction. It's enough for Herbert to tense up, and freeze like a statue. 

"Are you okay?" Dan asks quietly. They live alone. There's no need to be quiet, but it feels right.

"Don't treat me like I'm a porcelain doll, Dan." 

Dan forces a snide remark into his pocket. "You're just giving me the vibe that you're…"

"What."

"You know."

“_What_.”

"Nervous."

Herbert scoffs, pulling back entirely. "I am not!"

"If you don't want to go further than what we're doing right now, you know that's fine. I know you haven't…" Dan sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "You're not making this easy."

"You're assuming a lot."

"Herbert, you're like a block of wood when you're kissing me. I'm just saying, you seem a little—"

Herbert stalks forward with a newfound purpose, backing Dan into the wall behind him without his awareness until he feels cold, hard, brick through the thin layer of his shirt. 

"I gave a boy in my high school phys-ed class a blowjob in the locker room because he had the key to the basement's laboratory. That's just one thing I've done, Dan." Herbert reaches a hand down to press the heel of his hand against the half-mast bulge in Dan's pants. Oh God.

Dan can’t process this. Herbert giving head? In high school? No it’s a lie, it has to be. He just wants to sound experienced. 

Dan means to ask for elaboration, but Herbert’s already on his knees. Dan tenses up as he feels fingers ghost over the zipper of his jeans.

This isn’t happening.

“Herbert, uh, you don’t have to…”

“You said the kissing wasn’t working, so we’ll move on, okay?” Herbert says shortly, though Dan can see a smirk tugging at his lips. Without any finesse, he pulls Dan’s cock out. It’s all happening too fast, and when Herbert licks around the crown of it, Dan’s head slams against the wall behind him so hard he can feel the bruise already forming. 

It wasn’t a lie.

Herbert can deep throat like he’s mastered the art of fellatio, and he’s _ so _skilled that it distracts Dan from the fact he hasn’t had sex in months. There’s a burning coiling in his gut and he has to grab Herbert by his hair and pull him off.

He looks up at Dan slightly annoyed, with pouty glistening lips and it’s too much.

He can’t look that balanced with his usual level of impatience after blowing someone, as if Dan had merely interrupted one of his smaller, less important, experiments.

“If you keep, I’m gonna, well…”

Dan can’t seem to finish a sentence tonight. Herbert fights back the urge to roll his eyes, Dan can see it clear as day, and stands after zipping him back up. 

“Been a while?” Herbert drawls.

Dan swallows, face turning red. “Hey, I just want to have room to do other stuff. If that’s what you want.”

Herbert averts his gaze, crossing his arms cooly. He nods.

Dan pulls him in for another kiss, this time with a purpose, coaxing him into opening his mouth. Herbert does, and finally starts to pick up on the technique. 

He flips them around so Herbert’s back is pushed up against the wall. His thighs push forward instinctively against Dan’s. Dan uses this to his advantage and pulls Herbert’s legs up and around his hips. 

Herbert grips Dan’s shoulders to stay up. “Come on, I know you’re not this strong,” he mumbles into Dan’s ear.

“Strong enough to carry you upstairs.”

“Is that a bet?” Herbert asks. Dan moves one of his hands from Herbert’s thigh to his ass, pushing him up slightly. He ignores the strain in his shaking arms.

Herbert wags his eyebrows at him, challenging and aggravatingly complacent. 

Dan takes a deep breath and hauls him upstairs. He practically kicks the bedroom door open and drops Herbert gracelessly on his bed. Herbert bounces a few times, and he’s snickering. Dan’s flailing his arms, trying not to spout pained colloquialisms.

“I feel like I pulled something.”

“I’m not _ that _heavy, Dan.” 

Dan’s breathing slows and remembers the hardon he has pushing against the zipper in his jeans. He unzips them again and crawls over Herbert. 

Herbert is still amused over his valiance; Dan kisses him so he doesn’t have to look at the smug smile stretching up to his ears. 

All seems to be going in the right direction when Herbert’s hand strokes over Dan’s cheek, gripping at the nape of his neck, and it’s getting hot, he nearly reaches down to undo Herbert’s fly, but Herbert ruins the moment when he starts laughing against Dan’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says in a laugh-whisper. 

Dan pulls back, sitting on his haunches. “Do you not want to do this?”

“I do!” Herbert assures, and fixes his glasses which are tilting sideways. “I actually do, Dan. It’s just, you know when people laugh at funerals because they can’t process that someone is dead, and sometimes their body just gives in to the wrong reaction.”

“Herbert, what the hell does that have to do with sex?”

“I…” Herbert runs a hand through his own hair. Dan’s never see him speechless, fighting to formulate the right words. “I’ve wanted you for a while, and now that we’re...I’m processing it wrong.”

Dan blinks, slow to understand what he just admitted.

Herbert’s wanted him for a while? What’s_ a while? _ Dan ignores his dick for a second. He thought he’d initiated this whole thing; that he put the idea of this in Herbert’s head. He hadn’t even considered Herbert had wanted this before. How one-minded could he be?

“A part of me thinks it’s not real.” Herbert’s smile is gone at least. “Logically, I know that’s asinine. I just had your dick in my mouth.”

Dan’s face goes red again. 

He takes a breath.

“Hey, Herb.” Dan takes off Herbert’s glasses and places them on the nightstand. He looks so different without them. He’s seen it before, but he looks more vulnerable. Normal, maybe. He cradles Herbert’s face with both hands, before whispering, “It’s real.”

Herbert leans in this time, kissing him, deepening it himself. So, he _ is _a fast learner. Dan lowers him back onto the pillows again, and reaches down to unfasten Herbert’s buckle, when he notices he’s not hard. Not even slightly.

Herbert notices Dan’s confusion and pulls back.

“It takes me a while. It’s not you.”

“You okay?” Dan asks gently, thumb rubbing in circles on his thigh. 

Herbert nods rapidly. “You know me. I’m always distracted. Got science on the brain.” 

Dan thinks about this, smirks slightly. He suddenly wants him to be undone; he wants to break him. He wants Herbert to think about nothing else but him, his hands on him, feeling good. Really fucking good. 

Dan kisses down from his lips to his neck, and starts sucking right above his clavicle. Herbert lets out a small gasp, and Dan pushes a hand against his dick, willing it to come to life. Herbert pushes into his hand, reacting better than Dan expected.

Much better. Part of him thought Herbert would just lie here limp if they ever got this far. 

Dan pulls off Herbert’s shirt, and kisses down his chest, sucking at his nippes for a few moments. They’re the same color as his lips. He marvels at his smooth chest, realizing that if he’s seen it before, he never truly valued how pristine his skin is.

Herbert’s eyes are squeezed shut again, and he’s trying to be quiet. 

He can tell Herbert’s only ever given, and never received anything. It’s the same expression he’s seen on girls, virgins, who freeze up the second their shirts come off. 

“I used to say to myself, the day you stop talking is the day the world’s truly out of whack,” Dan admits, kissing at the line of soft hair leading down from his bellybutton.

Herbert snorts. “I didn’t realize you were expecting a monologue.”

Dan shrugs, hands sliding up Herbert’s thighs. “Monologues are better than silence.”

“You asked for it.” 

Dan isn’t sure what he means until he starts tugging Herbert’s pants all the way down, and Herbert is talking. 

“The articular, muscular and cutaneous distribution of the nerves is, in my opinion, a uniform arrangement in every joint in the body. We may find numerous illustrations of the same method of distribution in other parts of the body, which have the same definite relations to each other, and in this respect present the same physiological and mechanical arrangement observable in joints.”

Dan is tugging down Herbert’s underwear, gradually attempting to process whatever the hell Herbert is saying. He leans down to kiss and suck at the shaft of his penis. Herbert’s breath hitches, but he continues speaking, stuttering over his words. 

“This same principle of arrangement, anatomically, physiologically and pathologically considered, is to be..._ oh _ ... _ observed _with an equal degree of accuracy in the serous and in the mucous membrane. Thus considered, it presents a principle which, if it has any application in practice, must be one certainly of large e-extent.” 

Dan halts his ministrations, looking up at Herbert dumbfounded.

“What.”

“Hilton’s Law. Chapter ten.” 

“Again, what?”

Herbert grins, wiggling his hips. “You wanted a monologue.” 

Dan laughs. “You’re so stupid.” 

“I surpass your intelligence on every level.” 

“I’m about to make you eat your words,” Dan replies, throwing himself back into the task at hand. He slides Herbert’s cock into his mouth, and relishes the moment he feels him getting hard against his tongue. 

Herbert’s head is curling back into the pillow, neck craning elegantly. Dan swears if he hadn’t acquired the brains, he could have easily been a porn star. 

Dan pulls off and begins tugging his cock in quick intervals, lurching down to take one of Herbert’s balls into his mouth. Herbert yelps, and sits up on his elbows. He doesn’t need to look at Herbert’s expression to know he likes it. Precum forms at the tip of his dick, and Dan rubs his thumb firmly over the slit of his cock to feel it. 

Herbert’s eyes are closed, but not squeezed. He looks like he’s on another plane of existence, hips canting up in a way that’s barely noticeable. 

“Dan,” Herbert says softly. Dan pretends he doesn’t hear, leaning down to nuzzle at the base of his shaft and lick up towards the tip. Herbert, to his credit, scoots away before Dan can go further. “Dan,” he repeats. 

“Mhm?”

“I want to have sex.” 

Dan blinks fast, feeling like something gets caught in his eyes. To hear those words come out of Herbert West’s mouth. Let alone directed towards him.

“Right, okay, yeah. Gimme a second.” He scrambles up to grab some vaseline from his drawer, and a condom. He takes a steadying breath before returning to the bed. 

Herbert reaches down to tug Dan’s pants down. Dan helps him out by kicking them off the bed. Dan pulls off his shirt too. It’s the first time he feels unnaturally exposed before sex. Maybe because Herbert’s traveling, exploring, gaze is all too similar to the gaze he has when he’s examining corpses. 

Dan coats his fingers in the lubricant and gets to it. Surprisingly, Herbert doesn’t make any noise at all when he presses a finger against the rim of his hole and pushes it inside. He shifts his hips, and his expression is curious. 

“Tell me Dan,” he says casually. “Does it feel more like inserting your finger into an external auditory meatus or the severed tube of an aorta?”

Dan stops. 

“Are you serious?”

Herbert nods. Dan feels like he’s going to go crazy. 

“I don’t want you to talk about anatomy during our love making,” Dan says firmly, pushing Herbert down on his back as he continues stretching him out. The upside is, he’s anything but tight. He easily adds a second finger. 

“Lovemaking,” Herbert muses. “Didn’t know you loved me.”

“I don’t, just,_ shut up, _” Dan leans down to swallow Herbert’s flagging erection, bringing it back to life in seconds. Herbert does shut up, but bucks his hips harshly in place of strangely timed anatomical comments. 

Dan takes him in as much as he can, and soon enough Herbert’s got three fingers pumping in and out of him. 

He shifts them slightly, and Herbert’s hand shoots down to grab his arm. 

Dan looks up in a haze of confusion. He doesn’t know when Herbert’s eyes opened wider than saucers or when sweat began to bead on his forehead, but Dan repeats what he did with his fingers, and a whine from the back of Herbert’s throat emerges. His cock twitches against his stomach. Dan is so hard that it’s starting to hurt. 

“Cock. Ass. Now,” Herbert demands succinctly. From coherent to mindless in mere minutes.

There’s a surge of confidence blossoming in Dan’s chest, and he lubes himself up, and slides the condom on, looking up to check in with Herbert.

“Hey, you ready?”

“What the hell are you waiting for, Dan?” he grouches, canting his hips up so the tip of Dan’s cock catches on his hole. Jesus Christ, Dan feels like he’s going to die. 

He presses in, and Herbert actually _ convulses _, and moans. 

“Holy fuck, Herbert,” Dan says breathily when he bottoms out. 

“Fucking move,” Herbert says between gritted teeth. Dan wants to give him time to adjust, but unfortunately, he’s never been more quick to obey Herbert’s orders.

His hips move on their own volition. Herbert is much tighter than he felt around his fingers, but Herbert seems to be taking it well, craning his head to the side and pressing his sweat slick cheeks into the pillows with several gasps escaping his lips. 

With his dark hair falling over his eyes, and his mouth hung open in a permanent sort of way, where he usually uses his mouth for biting, condescending remarks; it’s gloriously obscene. 

Dan’s head has already fallen to Herbert’s shoulder, and he’s leaning all of his weight on his right elbow. The other hand is traveling down Herbert’s back, bringing him closer so that when he thrusts in they both grunt in pleasure. 

The deeper he goes, the more insatiable his need becomes. 

“_Fuck_,” Herbert says in an enraptured whisper when Dan changes the angle, as if he can’t help it. His back arches so his chest presses against Dan’s chest. 

Dan wants to tell him he’s beautiful, that they should have done this a long time ago. It all seems wrong to say at the moment, however, and the situation is spiraling out of his control as he loses track of the pace which he slams his hips against the back of Herbert’s thighs.

“Herbert I can’t last,” He mumbles, leaning back up slightly, so he can grab onto Herbert’s hips with both hands. Herbert nods, and starts jerking himself off. Dan almost comes just at the sight, but forces himself to wait. He does wait, until he sees white spurts of cum landing on Herbert’s chest, and a moan is ripped from him, a noise Dan could never imagine coming from him a day prior. 

It's when Herbert's hole flutters around his cock, clenching and unclenching, does he come too. With a low groan, he swoops down to kiss Herbert through the last surges of his orgasm.

When they break the kiss, Herbert comes down in small, high-pitched, breaths, chest heaving like he had run a marathon.

Dan slips out and flops on his back next to him.

"We just had sex," Herbert notes after a minute. Voice back to normal. Balanced. Even. Practical. _ Frustrating _. 

Dan wants to laugh. At least he'll have the image of Herbert throwing his head back in ecstasy forever ingrained in his mind. Let's see him get any work done now.

"No shit," he answers eventually. There's no venom in his tone.

There's suddenly a stark fear that Herbert will never allow this to happen again. Dan feels cold, but Herbert is already gone, to the bathroom. He hears the faucet running.

Herbert returns after a few minutes, boxers back on. Boxers. He wears boxers. Dan does start laughing, hysterically. Herbert sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at him with a puzzled expression.

"Dan?"

"You want to stay in my bed tonight?" Dan asks. The question comes out without any premeditation. He expects to be fully denied. 

He's seconds from retracting the question when Herbert nods.

"Of course. Scoot over, you're huge."

Only after he scoots over and pulls the covers over them that he registers the instant agreement. He wants to stay in bed with Dan.

**Author's Note:**

> probably the most ambiguous summary i've ever put on a fic, hope that the writing was good enough to make up for it. this was supposed to be done before halloween but look where we are. thanks for reading! xoxo


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